The Final Frontier
One, regrettably, I am
Denied in this life.
Tag Archives: Hope
Sonnet I: Evil Will Die
Shall any reach the stars when no man may?
And who shall lift ye when the rest are gone?
Believe ye he’ll continue, at your sway,
To trust it’s ye from whom his strength is drawn?
What lie is this? What price is added on
To that, with blissful ignorance, his gifts
Have paid? Dare shriek that hand should carry on,
Betrayed, when ye have cursed it while it lifts
Ye from your caves. The mind who guides it drifts
In lofty space. And when it dreams, it keeps
Ye from your graves. The laws of God it sifts,
With all His grace, yea, even as it sleeps.
Yet now, lies still, until your evil dies–
At rest, until ’tis safe to touch the skies!
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Into 1: To Atlas And…
To All The Weary:
He who waits. He who does not.
He who lifts the Earth.
Holds himself aloft.
Who reaches to the Heavens.
Godspeed either way.
Intro 8: Is It True
Does Hope
So very often
Look like
Despair?
Sonnet VIII: The Craven and the Valiant
I’ve been ashamed I have not held the line
Myself. Nor shown respect for those who did
Nor ever thought I could, a thought kept hidden
On a shelf of false disdain, maligning
Those who would; and pained to think my spine
Was weak. At least, until that day undid
My cravenness. That day I knew, amid
My web of lies, that woven not of mine–
No, tangled from another’s twine, a slack
And mangled maven–much more meek, supine,
More cowardly as then I was. No black
Nor white existed, why the fuss? he late
Insisted, only grey: The grey of hate
Of they who save the day, and hold the line.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 8: This was the Moment
The moment that I knew
That I spoke of long ago
Was in the summer.
In a stadium,
For the first time I heard it
We pledged allegiance
Many times I’d heard
Many times I’d said the words
This time, I listened.
Sonnet VII: Satan’s Silence
Could God’s devout assail with flame a room
Of helpless innocents whose only crime:
Descent from their inferno without time
To don a hooded veil, so to their doom
Were sent? What god commands her to a tomb
Half sunk in earth, and rent with stone by grime
Stained hands, a helpless girl? What paradigm–
That knew the violation of her womb,
Then learnt this travesty her god offends!?
Whose crime could be the punishment of rape?
What god is this? What votary attends?
While gawkers ’round the world in silence gape?
If God gives love, redemption, hope, and breath,
I name him Satan, feignèd god of death.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 